


As You Wish

by cinnamontoastcronch



Category: Supernatural, The Princess Bride - William Goldman
Genre: Angst and Humor, Drugged Sam, Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Post-Episode: s11e17 Red Meat, Sam and Dean make bad jokes, Sam and Dean watch The Princess Bride, The Princess Bride References, This is drugged ramblings, i guess, thats literally it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 03:50:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7669024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamontoastcronch/pseuds/cinnamontoastcronch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11.17</p><p>Dean and high Sam watch The Princess Bride</p>
            </blockquote>





	As You Wish

Dean sunk further into the small, plastic chair. Sam, who had been passed out in the bed next to Dean for several hours now, began to stir.

“D’n…?” 

“Hey, look at that, the princess awakens.”

Sam looked at his brother through blurry, tired eyes. He was slumped in a crappy folding chair, splitting his gaze between Sam and the little postage stamp sized TV.

“You alright, Sammy?” Dean asked calmly. Sam gauged his tone of voice: worn out, a little shaky, but not panicked. Sam didn’t have a reason to panic, then.

“M’ good…” 

Dean looked suspicious, but didn’t press further. 

“Are you watching _The Princess Bride_?” Sam asked suddenly.

“So what if I am?”

“S’ a chick flick…” Sam slurred out goofily.

“Yeah, well… no one will believe you if you tell them, druggie.” Dean said with a smirk.

Sam shifted around to face his brother. 

“Hey, whoa, Sammy stop!” Dean warned, wincing along with Sam as his stitches pulled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Gettin’ comfy…” 

Dean sighed, visibly frustrated. “Could you maybe do that without bleeding out again?”

Sam mumbled something into his pillow. 

Dean reached out and ran his fingers through his brothers ridiculous hair. 

There was a long silence, the TV still sputtering out grainy sound. 

‘ _You seem a decent fellow, I hate to kill you_.’

‘ _You seem a decent fellow, I hate to die_.’

“Thought _I_ was gonna die…” Sam slurred. 

“...You almost did.” Dean said quietly.

“So… guess I was ‘mostly dead’?” 

“Well… yeah that's what they told me…” Dean clearly wasn't sure what his brother was getting at.

“So I'm like Westley!” Sam exclaimed with a sloppy grin.

“You… what?” 

“Westley! From the…” Sam gestured awkwardly to the TV. “‘Member, ‘there's a big difference between mostly dead and all dead.’”

“Ohh.” Dean laughed. “Yeah, in your dreams, bitch. If anything you're Princess Buttercup. I'm always saving your ass.”

“Saved _your_ ass.” Sam scoffed. 

“Oh yeah? Sure that wasn't some hallucination, druggie?” Dean smirked.

Sam stuck his tongue out.

“Oh that's mature.”

“Whatever, dick… maybe I shoulda left you to the wolves.” Sam weakly hit Dean with the back of his hand.

“Aww… that's cute, Buttercup.”

“M’ _Westley_ …” Sam insisted childishly.  
Dean chuckled. “Whatever man, Westley's not even the coolest one. You picked the Luke Skywalker of this movie.”

“Luke Skywalker's the main character!” Sam whined. “Well who would you pick?” 

Dean scoffed like the answer was obvious. “Indigo Montoya! He's the Han Solo of this; _clearly_ better.”

Sam wrinkled his nose. “Indigo Montoya's only drive is revenge.”

Dean snorted. “Oh yeah, you're right. _No way_ you'd like a guy like that, Sammy.”

Sam hummed a non-response.

“Think I'm gonna get some coffee…” Dean said, rising slowly from his chair. “You want anything?”

“Coffee?” 

“Try again, druggie.”

“...jello?”

“That's more like it. Be right back, Sammy.”

“Supposed to say ‘ _as you wish_ ’.”

“Yeah you _do_ wish.” Dean said with a smirk, closing the door behind him.


End file.
